


A Chai Latte, An Opera Cake, and a New Beginning

by C-chan (1001paperboxes)



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Academia, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Barista Grantaire, Gen, Librarian Combeferre, Pre-Combeferre/Grantaire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:47:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28306272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1001paperboxes/pseuds/C-chan
Summary: It was hard to tell what drew Combeferre to the Mussain. But between the intriguing paintings, the good food and drink, and the conversation provided by the resident barista, it was clear that this visit would not be his last.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9
Collections: Les Mis Holiday Exchange (2020)





	A Chai Latte, An Opera Cake, and a New Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mariuspondmercy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariuspondmercy/gifts).



The good thing about taking a mat leave position at a university library was that it offered experience. A chance to see if he liked that university, or academic librarianship for that matter, before delving into something a little more permanent. (Having access to such a rich repository of knowledge without having to resort to what he could scrape from Google Scholar and ResearchGate was also a very large plus.)

The bad thing about taking a mat leave position at a university was having to navigate transit schedules in a town big enough to realize it needed busses, and small enough that they ran far too infrequently to always be of use. The one he needed in particular ran only once every two hours. And, naturally, that included one scheduled to arrive fifteen minutes after his shift started, and another that left fifteen minutes before it ended.

The good side to _that_ was that it gave him plenty of time to dedicate to do research, and to explore the town.

Not much was open at 8:30 in the morning; a few restaurants running breakfast specials, the usual fast food chains, a grocery store and a convenience store. He hoped more would be open when his shift ended, so he could explore while he waited for his return trip home. But for now, he supposed, a celebratory first-day drink would have to suffice.

He wasn't sure precisely what drew him to the one café in particular, though there were certainly many factors in its favour. It was small, and with the sort of homey feel that one didn't find in chain restaurants. The music coming from inside was classical, rather than the pop of other places. The guy behind the counter looked like he'd tried for hipster and had given up halfway through, and was dancing to the music in something that seemed intriguingly like a partnerless waltz. And the name _Mussain_ rang a faint bell in his mind, though he couldn't quite place what seemed familiar about it. But whatever it was that finally enticed him to go inside, he walked in and spent a minute studying the menu before putting in an order.

Chai latte. Extra large. Skim milk. Extra whip. Something large enough that he could nurse it for an hour or so, and rich enough to feel like a treat, without being rich enough to let the fat coat his tongue.

The guy behind the counter took the order, wrote it down on a pad, and then processed the transaction.

"By yourself?" he asked.

"Afraid so," Combeferre confirmed. 

"Might as well take a seat at the bar then," he offered, cocking his head toward the wood paneling in front of his work area. "It'll be nice to have some company."

Combeferre complied easily, seeing no reason to refuse the request. The chairs in front looked comfortable enough, and the hour was too late for the early risers, and too early for the majority of the academic community, so there was just them at the café at the moment.

"So. Grad student or lecturer?"

"Huh?" Combeferre asked, looking over at where the barista was frothing some milk.

The barista shrugged. "You look too old to be undergrad, too young to be anything not-sessional, and dressed wrong to be doing any of the service jobs on campus. So, unless I'm barking up entirely the wrong tree, in which case I'm wondering why you're here alone during the first morning lull, I have to assume it's one of those two."

"Huh," Combeferre replied. "Your deductions are good. Wrong, but good."

"Oh?" the barista asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Late to undergrad then?"

"Nah," Combeferre replied. "Librarian."

"Ah," the barista replied. "Okay, yeah, that fits the bill too. So what brings you here today of all days?"

"First day," Combeferre replied. "Which probably explains the other mystery of why you've got a new client right after midterms, too."

The barista shrugged. "That's easy enough: Right after midterms sometimes means it's time for a change."

"Fair enough. I'm Combeferre, by the way."

"Grantaire," the barista replied, placing a mug on the counter. "And this is your new best friend."

The latte was covered with whipped cream and caramel syrup, with a dusting of cinnamon overtop. It smelled delightful.

"I'll be sure to treat it with care," Combeferre promised, before picking it up and taking as long and deep of a sip as he could with the very messy top, making Grantaire laugh. "You weren't kidding. This is very good indeed."

"Thanks," Graintaire replied. "My own spice mix, after a lot of trial and error."

"This place is yours, then?" Combferre guessed.

Grantaire's smile turned slightly wry. "Got it in one. People were always saying that a doctorate in art history was bound to land me nowhere but Starbucks, so I decided to prove them wrong by starting my own place instead."

"That's fair," Combeferre replied. "It explains the decor, too. I don't know many cafés that have Van Goghs on their walls, though admittedly I don't recognize that one."

"That's because it's one of mine," Grantaire replied. "I mean, yeah. Van Gogh painted enough things that I wouldn't expect anyone to recognize them all on sight anyway, but that one in particular was part of my practical Master's, which involved me pretty much trying to forge the style, but not a specific painting, of a dozen different artists.

Looking around, there were indeed twelve paintings on the wall, each in a distinctive different style.

"All of these, then?"

"You're better at inferences than me, apparently," Grantaire replied. "All mine, all the same project. The Pollock was the most fun."

"Abstract painting often is," Combeferre agreed.

"You an artist too, then?" Grantaire wondered.

"Not really," Combeferre replied. "I've dabbled, but I'm afraid I've done much more in the humanities and applied and social sciences."

"Breadth over depth then," Grantaire guessed.

"Yep. Triple major in undergrad, and did a year in med school before dropping out to get one masters in sociology and another in librarianship."

"Ambitious. You know, they usually say 'Jack of all trades and master of none…'"

"But better than master of none."

"Hah! People always leave out that last part, don't they."

"Without fail," Combeferre agreed. "I'm surprised that you know it, in fact."

"It takes a renaissance man," Grantaire replied. "Speaking of, take this. On the house."

A plate was placed on the table, and upon it…

"Is that opera cake?"

"Yep," Grantaire replied. "Can't get anything past you. Saw it on Bake-off, and immediately knew I needed it on my menu."

"Are you sure you don't want me to pay for it?"

"Positive," Grantaire replied. "But tell you what. If you like it, and I'm sure you will, I'll let _you_ pay for the next one."

The next hour passed amicably, the two settling into an easy rhythm of conversation, passing trivia back and forth, and even getting into a debate or two about the place of higher education in society and the relative unhireability of doctoral graduates. By the time Combeferre realized the time, he knew he'd have to hurry if he didn't want to be late for his first shift.

"So, Combeferre, will I be seeing you again tomorrow?" Grantaire asked as Combeferre collected his things and headed towards the shop exit.

Combeferre looked back, giving him a smile. "Things looking the way they are, I'll probably see you _tonight_."

Grantaire returned the smile, a toothy grin that spread from ear to ear.

"I'll look forward to it, then."

"Me too," Combeferre replied.

Whatever had driven him to the Mussain, Combeferre looked forward to returning to it again and again. He was already in love with the food and intrigued by its owner, and looked forward to seeing what else he could learn in the days and months to come.


End file.
